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Ok, no. Scratch that last post.

I know I'm human because I get terrible headaches.
And I get frustrated because the internet doesn't reach all the way to my bedroom as well as it should.
I love the feeling of taking a shower and just sitting down and letting the water wash over me.
I hate when people make jokes about people/groups of people.
But I make those jokes myself..
I freaking know that I'm a human because I'm sitting here looking at a computer screen absolutely hating what I see. I'm writing to hopefully be a part of the 'top 5' list. But that's not going to happen when I'm writing to get praise;not explore me.

So dear me,
Stop thinking. You know you think too much about every little thing there is to think about. Turn off the depressing music and go listen to some Disney songs to make you happy again. Wear your favorite shirt even though nobody else likes it. Take a nap for crying out loud! Say no. You're not everyone elses' slave. Just keep trying, alright?

dear mom,
I lied to you. I have stepped on the scale to see how much I weighed. No. I haven't gained any weight back. Yes. That terrifies me. But I am so much more than that. And I know you see so many good things about me, and I'm sorry that I can't just accept those compliments. But please do not stop giving them...

dear Nelson,
I didn't know that you knew my name. You rarely acknowledge me during class... I think you've said my name twice besides roll-call. You've never commented on any of my posts. Not saying that you have to! There's not much quality stuff. I just wish that I could be like those bloggers you always praise, that everyone always praises! I want to inspire people. Make them think. I want to steal in such a way that it seems original. I'm just not creative in a way in which I can express. Sorry.

dear Paris,
You try to seem so inviting, and yet from the outside looking in you are quite cruel.

dear robots,
I envy you because you feel no sadness. I am sorry for you because you feel no sadness.

dear comments section,
I give you far much more attention than I probably should. I try to come up with clever titles and inspiring lines, but nothing seems to grab your attention. My blog is not defined by you and your number.




Starting today. I write for me. Not for you.

It's the Little Things

• the feeling of a warm day and the sun on your face
• when you find a dress for homecoming that you love
• comfy t-shirts
• sunday naps that last a little bit longer than they probably should
• not having any homework
• getting the last piece of birthday cake
• a realllly good burger
• music that moves you
• finally having your mom say that she's proud of you
• learning new words
• perfect eyeliner

It's just the little things that help me remember why I'm alive. What are your little things?

A Midnight Epiphany // Hotel Books

Listen.  --   Lyrics.

It’s funny how artistic we become when our hearts are broken.

—  Hotel Books, I Always Thought I Would Be Okay

I think I’m losing you, but I will never regret choosing you.

—  Hotel Books // Nicole

every night I lie awake, 
and I know my heart will break, 
but what hurts the most is knowing it’s happening to you.

—  hotel books, constant conclusions 

It’s not about being there for me, it’s about respecting me enough to tell me why you’re not

—  Hotel Books, Losing a Friend

The large amount of coffee stains in my journal is a reminder of when I pushed myself into depression.

-- Hotel Books, I Always Thought I'd Be Okay

And I said I would die for you.
But that was before I knew
That it’s all you wanted me to do.

—  Hotel Books “Constant Collapse”

Covered in the charcoal remains of ashes from the last time someone burned me.

—  Run Wild, Young Beauty by Hotel Books

my lungs hurt from inhaling the past

—  Beliefs [Upon Contact] // Hotel Books

it takes two to make a relationship survive, 
but it only takes one to make it die.

—  Two Steps Back // Hotel Books

I tried to capture my emotions on paper and was told I was misdirected, but maybe my mindset has just been infected by this pain-infested re-appropriation of my familiarity with negligence.

—  I Always Thought I Would Be Okay // Hotel Books 

It's only art if...

it's only art if it makes you feel something.

it's only good if it makes you ponder.

it's only controversial if you make it so.

It's still art if it's not well liked.

It's still art even when nobody appreciates it.

It has value even if it's not monetarily.

The First 'I Love You'

                         I love you.

What did you say? 

                                I... I love you.

Babe you're speaking too quiet I can't hear you.

             Nothing, I didn't say anything.

I love you too. 

And I hope you know that I love you more than anything. More than I love the stars. I love you more than I love my pudding cups or payday. I love you more than I love all my candles that smell good.

I love you because you've treated me better than anyone in my past. I can't deny that.

Because you're the first boy to hold my hand in public like you're proud of me.

Because when I show you the darkest parts of my soul, you show me yours

and I am left not feeling vulnerable, no, but more loved than before. 

I love you because you can cry in front of me and know it's ok.

And when you tickle me I get butterflies and laugh so hard

My cheeks have begun to hurt because I smile so often,

but I wouldn't have it any other way, I love you.

It sounds so cliche, but I wouldn't want it

absolutely any other way, I love you.

Because you're my best friend.

And life is an adventure.

Let's explore some.

I love you.

Every single groove.

Every scar you've obtained.

Because I can see yours all over;

and you explore the ones that I've earned.

And we can share the stories about how we got them.

I will never get tired of the way you speak. It's so soothing.

And the way we fit together like puzzle pieces only made for eachother

And your heart beat when we cuddle. The rhythm goes in perfect time with mine

And I think that is what love is. When two people are so perfectly in sync with one another

Where they don't even have to talk but they know exactly what the other is thinking at that moment.

I don't know entirely what love is, but I want to explore the possibilities with you by my side, always
Time is on our side now. We are still so young. Let's explore this foreign feeling. Lets have some fun
Let's make some memories that might last forever and kiss a little too much and get drunk on the idea  of love.

My Self Portrait

YOU ARE WHAT YOU LOVE NOT WHAT LOVES YOU

our creativity was what was running us

and as time goes on we learn from society we can't do stuff
we've been conditioned to move to a place of what loves us
every decision we make is based off of what other people think of us
So you're saying this person completes me, which in reality what you're saying is you are incomplete without this person.

If you're under the illusion that these things outside of you are what complete you, you will always be a victim.

when you were a kid you were working on you.

and that same mentality exists within the people who are great at what they do.


So dear me,
     No matter how old you are. Start working on you. Start deciding for yourself what you love. And even though 8 year old me is not who I am today, and I may not enjoy crayons as much as I did, I realize more about myself now. I realize now that in order to draw myself I need pencils and pens and crayons and markers. I need my wants and desires and the people I love and my pet peeves. I cannot draw a complete self-portrait with just crayons. That is because I am not just one thing.
 I am not just made up of my exes. So don't you dare refer to me as "so and so's ex." 
I am not just my scars.
I am not just the digits on my social security card.
I am not just an american.
or a girl.
or short.
or a student.

I am not these individual characteristics of me, I am rather the accumulation of all of these things that makes up who I am. 

My self portrait is still being drawn, and it is ever changing, because who I am is what I love, and what I love is changing constantly. 

So dear me...

keep drawing even though you know you're terrible. 
Kiss your teddy bear goodnight.
Do your homework, someday it'll matter. (I think.)
But most importantly keep running, no matter how slow you go. As long as you can take another step towards who you truly are, take it.

Sincerely,

me.

Call me crazy,

call me dumb.

But recently life's been hazy,

And  I can feel my soul going numb.

You left me paralyzed

my heart on the floor.

The scars left from your surgeries

have me feeling unwhole.

You call me saying you need me

and when I say I'm here...

you call me a lying bastard

and that's my biggest fear.

That someone I care for [or did]

won't know that i'm here.

Won't know that I was in their position, once, too.

Because when the walls come closing in

and the air becomes paper thin

I'm there to bring some oxygen,

not to take my hit.

Because I've been in that room.

I know every groove.

I was alone when all I wanted was a home.

Sorry I care too much, I guess that's my fatal flaw.

Because I remember every detail that I had ever saw.

Man needs more mercy,

 

man needs more love,

man needs to realize...

That Darwin wasn't right.

Life ain't  about survival of the fittest,

it's about survival of us all.

And sometimes being left alone can cause more harm than good. 

Vehicular Manslaughter

I am writing this post for me. This week I write because I have a heavy heart. 

At age 18 someone still has their entire life before them, don't they? 

They've only been living for 

986 weeks

6,905 days

165,720 hours

9,943,200 minutes

596,592,000 seconds They still have a chance... Don't they? A chance to become someone, have a career, meet the love of their life, change the world. But for some, 986 weeks is all the freedom they get.  Because at week 987 they're sentenced to prison. Because they used their freedom to have a little too much fun, got behind the wheel, and killed a man. And now, for the next 15-20 years, this young little 18 year old will be haunted by their choices, and it hurts me to know that someone apart of my family could have gone so astray. Someone who I looked up to when I was young now is locked away. I haven't seen her in 10 years though. Why should I care? I see her facebook posts, I see her snapchat stories. She does stupid things. I should've seen this coming. Her mother has been to jail. But that was on possession of paraphernalia and theft of cosmetics and having a gun in a state that she shouldn't. Not killing a man and fleeing the scene.  I stand in awe that someone I love is going to spend her prime years behind bars rotting away, because she made a stupid decision. I'm not saying she should be exempt from the consequences of her decisions, I am just stating the feelings I have right now. Someone who is just a year older than me messed up so badly. It scares me to think about how much our lives change after one simple act... For good or for bad.

Hat Trick

3

Three

T H R E E.

Three years of high school under my belt.

A hat trick of schooling. In the event of life I have survived three years of high school, and so have you.

That is something to be proud of. When the drop out rate in Utah has gone from 83 to 80 to 76 in the course of three years. 

 

Be proud of yourself, that no matter where you feel you are, you're still in school. I tip my hat to you, students.